Laundry
by Hermione331
Summary: Tony is too lazy to do the laundry the "right" way, and Steve is tempted to smack him over the head when he sees Tony one day making his way to the laundry room with a box of dirty clothes. That particularly wasn't irritating, but the fact that he was kicking the box instead of carrying it was. (Even though it's rated K , there is some strong language.)


"Tony! It's your turn to do the laundry!" Steve called into his shared bedroom with Tony as he prepared breakfast, mostly omelets and pancakes, but the pancakes were for more for Tony than they were for him. As Steve set the table, Tony strolled casually from their bedroom, a grease-stained towel tossed over his shoulder as he tapped away idly on his Stark Phone. Steve rolled his eyes and plucked the phone out of Tony's hand as he passed by and swiped a plate of pancakes off the counter. Tony shot him a dirty look at having his tech snatched away, but sat down and hungrily began the breakfast prepared by his boyfriend.

"Do I really have to? I mean, I can just get JARVIS to do it. Or one of the suits; hell, even Dum-E could do the freaking laundry _for _me! Why do I have to do it?" Tony was whining between bites of pancake, and as Steve sat to join him, rolling his eyes, he had to resist the urge to stab Tony with his fork. Instead he speared his omelet with said fork, and said nothing, knowing Tony was going to continue.

"Come on, Feathers. Even you could do it for me if I asked nice enough; super-strength and all that jazz. All seven of us have way too many clothes for me to do it all on my damn lonesome." Tony then chose that moment to pull a pout at Steve, who held a deadpan 'are you shitting me right now' expression that didn't look like it was going to change anytime soon. After a moment of glare meeting pout, Tony sighed and restacked his plate with more pancakes, cramming his face once more.

"Fine, whatever. I'll do the laundry. Just as long as I still get pancakes, we're good." Tony smirks as he takes another bite, making Steve narrow his eyes.

"Okay then, Shell head. If you just want pancakes, then no more extra treats for you," Steve retorts. Tony looks up from his plate with wide eyes, putting down his fork.

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, but I _would_."

Tony crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes as well, but eventually picked up his plate with a groan as Steve laughed, ruffling his hair as he passed towards the bedroom.

"Don't mope all day; you'll get your just desserts after you do the laundry. I'm going out for a jog; I'll be back in an hour or so." Tony pouted, but waved goodbye as Steve reemerged from their bedroom wearing a tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts, choosing to take the stairs as Tony got his phone back from the counter.

"JARVIS, how much laundry do I have to do, exactly?" Tony asked absently. Opening a set of doors in the hallway of his and Steve's floor to reveal a washer and dryer, Tony checked to see if he had all that he needed before starting the laborious task.

"There is about two months total of estimated laundry compiled between all eight members of the Avengers Tower, sir," The Artificial Intelligence replies coolly, and Tony groans loudly in annoyance.

"Jesus, people, do you stockpile just so I get all the hard work when it's my turn to do the laundry?" Tony asks. The rest of the Tower (especially Loki) knows that whenever it's Tony's turn to do the laundry, Steve will make him do it himself, for the sake of doing actual housework. Tony always groans and bears it, but it's freaking tiresome.

"Surprisingly, yes, sir; it seems as though it was Loki's idea to put off delivering the laundry." Tony groans again, and snaps his fingers absently as his other hand continues to tap away on his Stark Phone.

"That bastard. Tell Loki to shove it, and ban him from delivering any of his laundry for a month," Tony commands. JARVIS gives the affirmative of the request being fulfilled, and finally Dum-E comes whirling in with eight boxes in his claw, beckoned by the snap of Tony's fingers. With a heavy sigh, Tony orders JARVIS to start playing his music and deliver the clothes. As they make their way to his and Steve's floor of the Tower, Tony separates the boxes to pile the clothes properly, and waits until each pile of clothing is deposited in its designated area near the living room's bar before getting up and dumping each pile into a separate box. He eyes each of them warily, unsure of which to begin with. After a moment of contemplating, Tony sighs again, and glances toward the ceiling.

"I am so gonna kill Steve for this when he gets back; I won't even be halfway done by then, and I have two hours or so to myself," Tony complains aloud. JARVIS surprisingly does not comment, letting Tony's music play uninterrupted as he sets about his chore.

-/-/-

Steve takes a deep breath as he changes into comfortable sweats after his run, and wonders how Tony is doing with his chore. After snagging a book from his shelf in the bedroom, Steve goes to sit down on one of the couches in the living room and read for about an hour before taking a break.

"JARVIS, how far along is Tony in his chore?" he asks tentatively. After all these months in the Tower, Steve isn't sure JARVIS will listen much to what he asks, despite Tony's insistence that he's fine, for the billionth time, god Steve would you shut up about it already?

"Master Stark is currently at 38% percent progress towards his task, Captain Rogers," the AI replies immediately, and Steve rolls his eyes as he picks up his book again.

"Tell Tony to stop being so damn lazy already and finish the chore please, would you do that?" Steve asks absently, licking a thumb to turn a page in his book. JARVIS gives affirmation that the message has been sent, and Steve smiles fondly in thought of Tony. The idiot. Steve once again focuses his attention to the book he's reading, and JARVIS automatically begins playing quiet background music for him. With a soft smile, Steve relaxes and enjoys the downtime he's managed to get today.

After about an hour or so, Steve is halfway through his book when a dull shuffling makes his hearing perk a bit in interest. Without looking up from his book, Steve determines that whoever is dragging whatever is doing it at a leisurely pace, and not being very energetic in the first place. Steve sighs and rolls his eyes as another thud and shuffle sounds right behind the couch.

"Tony, what are you _doing_?" he asks. Another thud and shuffle across the tiled floor.

"Laundry, Steve. What does it look like I'm doing?" Steve looks up from his book to see Tony standing behind the couch with nothing in his hands, and a bored expression on his face. Steve snorts and returns to his book, turning another page absently.

"It looks like you're just standing there, Tones. I thought you said you were actually going to do the laundry this time?" he asks. Tony scoffs, and Steve hears another thud and shuffle before he turns around again, frowning.

There is a box at Tony's feet filled to the brim and overflowing with Clint's clothes, and Tony is making no move to pick it up. Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Tony. What the hell?" Tony smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck, tapping his foot against the side of the box.

"I said I was doing laundry!"

"Tones, you're kicking a box of Clint's clothes across the living room. Can you not pick up the box?" Tony rolls his eyes and kicks the box again, that annoying and unnecessary _thud, shuffle _scraping across the hardwood.

"No. I'm not gonna pick up the damn box, Steve. I really don't wanna," Tony groans at Steve, trying to pout again. Steve raises an eyebrow and looks at the box pointedly, making Tony narrow his eyes in irritation.

"I hate you, Rogers," Tony glares, but picks up the box with faux difficulty, making a show of grunting and taking slow, deliberate steps. Steve rolls his eyes again, _why does he roll his eyes so damn much with Tony, Jesus, _and returns to his book as Tony continues his theatrical struggle towards the washer.

"Sure you do, Tones. Just get the damn laundry done so we can get lunch," Steve replies absently. Tony glares at Steve from behind the pile of Clint's clothes, but the super soldier deliberately ignores it, directly focusing his attention to his book. Tony grumbles angrily under his breath as he takes Bucky's clothes out of the dryer (how the _fuck _did Bucky even get all these damn clothes anyways) and tosses in Bruce's load to dry. After setting Natasha's clothes to wash, Tony throws himself bodily onto the couch adjacent to Steve, still glaring. Steve is trying not to smile, but Tony looks fucking ridiculous with his pout and puppy dog eyes.

"Tones, guilt tripping me isn't going to work. It's not my fault it's your turn for laundry, and you know that." Tony grumbles again and crosses his arms over his chest as he turns to lie upside down on the couch.

"I know s'not your fault, Steve. It's just so much _work_!" Tony whines. Steve laughs softly in response and pats the spot next to him, turning another page in his book absently. Tony smiles and flips off the couch, moving to tuck himself against Steve's body.

"What're you reading?" Tony asks absently, and Steve wraps an arm around Tony's shoulder before putting the book down and beginning to stroke his hair.

"It's nothing, just grabbed something off the shelf. Do you wanna watch some TV while you wait for the laundry?" Steve asks softly. Tony hums an affirmation, and turns Steve head so he can lean forward and presses their lips together. Steve smiles and applies a returning pressure, but keeps the kiss chaste and grins as Tony pouts again.

"Sorry, Tones, but you know the rules." Tony rolls his eyes and swats Steve's shoulder.

"Yeah yeah, I know. I don't get any until I finish my chores, blah blah. You act like I'm some sort of child," Tony tries to scowl, but it only turns into another pout, and Steve laughs again.

"You _were _kicking our laundry across the living room like a teenager too lazy to fulfill his responsibilities; I have plenty of reason to act like you're a child," Steve retorts, and Tony hits him in the shoulder. Steve shoots a lopsided smile at him, and raises a hand to smack him upside the head. Tony holds his skull like he acquired a concussion, glaring at Steve.

"What the hell was that for, Feathers?!" he snaps. Steve starts laughing loudly this time, and rubs Tony's arm in consolation.

"That's what you get for being lazy, Tones. Next time, just do your chores and it'll be over quicker." Tony mumbles again under his breath and tucks himself closer against Steve as JARVIS puts BBC's _Sherlock _on the TV, staring at the screen. Steve smiles as he resumes stroking the genius's hair, and tightens his grip around Tony's shoulder.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch what you said." Tony glares up at Steve again, and raises a hand to flick Steve in the forehead.

"When it's your turn to do laundry, I'm gonna make sure you have to do twice the damn work," he threatens. Steve laughs again, shaking Tony gently.

"You know I'm not even gonna break a sweat."

"I know. But I can call in a favor and get a certain Trickster to make the load a lot heavier than it should be."

"You wouldn't _dare_." Tony grins, and steals another kiss before closing his eyes and snuggling up fully against Steve's side.

"Oh, but I _would_, Feathers. It just reminds you of how much I love you." Steve smiles fondly and begins stroking Tony's hair again.

"Okay. But I feel like it reminds me more of how much of an idiot you are." Tony cracks one eye open and hits Steve's bicep.

"Okay, okay, I'm just joking. I love you too, idiot." Tony huffs indignantly.

"Jerk." Steve laughs softly again.

"I know."


End file.
